Men are like Taxis

I did think of listing out the men in my life once. Not like dad, bro or chacha-mama, but the romantic links. But at the time I had thought of it, there weren’t that many. Today, at this juncture of life, I can boast of having seen enough men, naked and otherwise. And I still can’t find a common thread between them. Everytime I dumped a guy, or a guy dumped me, I would say the same thing – All men are the same! Trouble is, they are not. Each one is a namoona in his own right. Though there is one thing. They pride themselves on being exclusive distributors of LOGIC. Go figure. And another. There will never be a man who is trying to win you over, and will not say, I’m a born masseur. Wanna try?

The first guy was that first crush in school. The first ever. He was definitely the cutest kid in my grade. I had a crush on him even before I knew what a crush meant. Or even what I was supposed to do if we ever did get together. It was just being happy that he looked at me a couple of times in class. And happier that he wasn’t pulling my pigtails, and pushing me down! Although yeah, that would have meant he liked me, but I was willing to give that one a miss. Would have been too embarrassing in the schoolyard in front of everyone. Anyway, in later years I got quite a reputation as a ball-buster…had he pushed me down I may have started right then and ruined any chances we had. But sadly enough, a year later this girl joined my class…who would later become my best friend, but at that time, all I wanted was a voodoo doll. I met this guy again later in life. Merchant navy. Tall, fair and handsome. But he had lost that childlike sweetness in his face which I had fallen in love with in the first place. There ended my first romance. Twelve years later.

Then came S. He was devilishly handsome, yet had this centered, mature aura about him. But he brought back painful memories of my childhood, when he also fell for another girl, who sadly again, became another one of my closest friends. They made the perfect couple – fair, light-eyed, just perfect. I always had a strange feeling since then, that the babe and I became friends only through our common loathing of S. As fate would have it, the man took up the sciences as we progressed. And forgot to shave after that for the rest of his life! I mean, what good is being handsome if it’s all under the dark, coarse bush of a beard? She lost interest, definitely, and I developed short-term amnesia. Heard he has become a dentist these days. Chalo, I do hope he shaves now, cos his women patients would really have a good time in the chair.

Of course, every woman has that one bad boy she would die to sudharo-fy! This one was the basketball team captain, tall, dark, muscular, positively divine. I never saw him in anything but the blue team uniform (showed a lot of skin, I must add – it was part of the charm). Mahogany skin, glistening with beads of sweat, bright, shining eyes, and a killer grin, even white teeth, I remember every detail, as I was a part of the group of junior girls who would sit by the court and secretly lust after her respective team-member. But he was older, and nothing ever happened as his sister was another goddamn friend (I think this is why I stopped befriending women – they always came in between!) But one time he did bring me chocolates, and to this day I wonder what would have happened had I not been such a prude! Last I heard of him he was off representing the country in Busan. Sigh…

Now I was growing up. Men were becoming less of lust objects and more of utility appliances. Someone to hang out with during break-times, be my date for the dances and farewells, and generally be around when required. And this was becoming tough to find. I found one almost-eligible candidate, but he turned out to have this remarkably irritating strut, so he had to be eliminated. Otherwise he was perfect in every way, just that he thought he was god’s gift to schoolgirls.

At one point of my life (this was to be repeated later), I was torn between two perfectly wonderful men. One was a downright charmer, a total Aladdin-lookalike, I mean, he wasn’t a cartoon, but I find that also one of the more good-looking cartoons to be seen. That rogue, he could make anyone laugh. The other one oozed sex-appeal, again a basketball player. Apparently these days he is doing more weed than women.

As the days left in school dwindled, the number of guys that were in heat was going up. There were these arbit men who tried to kiss you, or touch something, or ask corny questions. ‘Can I feel you tonight?’ Feel this, dude. (Pity you can’t see what finger I’m holding up). Once we were all playing dodgeball, and by chance, in the middle of all the running around, some guy’s hand brushed against my chest. I think he dreamt about that one for nights after that, as the game had to be suspended for a while till he got his breath back from all the coughing and giggling and blushing!

In college, I found the perfect man.

Or so I thought. He was a genuine guy, yes. He was honest, caring, sweet, protective, had oodles of talent and charm and wit. He was well read, his vocabulary was widespread, his grammar impeccable! He was ambitious, sporty, elegant, and smelled good. Even now, if he’s anywhere around, I’ll be able to tell him by his smell. The whole package, basically. But a man that perfect does not exist now, not ever. Slowly, but surely, the tantrums surfaced. The constant whining for space. The escapist attitude. The pure selfishness and cruelty of a Bluebeard, If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you! It’s rather sad, he was otherwise quite an angel, but a baby angel. And I was not old enough to handle a baby yet.

When you have slept with the same man throughout college, you need some flavor in post-grad! And boy, available there is a lot! I was almost depressed that I was the kind of chick who needed to form an emotional connection with a guy before she did him, even if it wasn’t a major connection. A number of meaningless romances ensued. Where both parties were trying to figure out the connection, but apart from coursebooks and movies and cheese dosas, nothing worked. Of course, there was that one knight in shining armor, who’d sing I’ll be there, when I should be around, and to his credit, he was. But just in college.

A special mention here for my two best friends, and possibly the two most important men in my life. Very few people, let alone men, can truly stand by a person through thick and thin, have their share of fights, and get on with their friendship with dignity and respect. One can’t buy people. But these two people can. Of course, they don’t need money.

These days again I found two to ponder over. Sweet men. One is so responsible and reliable and trustworthy, that you just feel like sleeping in his arms. You feel safe, protected. But don’t expect any passion, any fervor, any feeling. The other has the most incredible smile I have ever seen. It makes him look so yummy, I think it’s his smile that lights up his entire persona. He can make anyone laugh, and few men possess the kind of creativity and sparkling wit this guy has. But he’s the kind you send out on an errand on Monday, and don’t expect back till Thursday.

‘Tis but human nature to not realize the worth of what one has and ache for what she can’t have. I am still into the wrong man. Haaaaaaaaaaaaaalp!